


drums, tattoos, and octopuses

by mutemelody



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders-centric, Drummer Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Ficlet, Fluff, Hard of Hearing Morality | Patton Sanders, M/M, Punk Logic | Logan Sanders, Remus is very gay for Virgil that's it that's the fic, Tattooed Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Trans rights!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutemelody/pseuds/mutemelody
Summary: "Virgil, their bassist and Remus’s angsty and lovely boyfriend, had gone to the tattoo parlor earlier to get a new tattoo and had rudely refused to inform Remus of what it was beforehand. Absolute homophobia if you ask Remus."Some Duxiety fluff in a Rock Band AU.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders (Background)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 127





	drums, tattoos, and octopuses

“Remus, Roman, I believe you both know why I have gathered you here today.” Logan says. He looks like the contradiction that Logan always is--somehow a perfect mix of prep and punk with something else that just says  _ Logan  _ mixed in. 

Or at least, that’s how Roman describes him. Dear Satan, if Remus has to hear his twin do  _ one more rant  _ about his blue hair and tie and tattoos and intelligence Remus is going to stab Roman with his drumsticks. Again.

In his defense, it’s not his fault if Roman deserves it! It his his right as the older twin to stab his younger twin if necessary. Really. It’s probably in a book or something. Maybe Remus should write a book. It’d be far more interesting than those boring shit in most textbooks and would have  _ far  _ better illustration than anyone before him.

Logan keeps talking, likely saying something about how their modifications to the smoke machines were “dangerous” and “irresponsible” or something similarly boring. Remus flips himself upside down on the couch so that his head is where people’s butts usually go. He kicks Roman in the shoulder, knowing his twin won’t retaliate. He’s too busy being gay over Logan.

Softie. It’s gross.

Remus says as much, when they’re released with instructions that if they ever want to make the fog machine to let out multicolored (specifically blue, pink, and white, because  _ fuck yeah trans rights)  _ fog, they should just ask Logan to do so. Apparently putting food dye in the machine is not the correct way, Remus, are you even listening?

Remus exits the living room to the garage where most of their equipment is stored. It’s Patton’s house, his moms being perfectly okay with whatever they get up to as long as they don’t get caught by the police or get hurt. It’s hilarious to Remus that Patton’s parents are so cool and morally loose when their son is so damn uptight.

He settles down on his drums, barely taking notice of Patton off to the side. Drums are...good for him. It’s a mix of chaos and order and just pure  _ noise  _ and he absolutely  _ loves  _ it. He bangs and stomps and yells and somehow he’s able to be both creative  _ and  _ destructive at the same time. When he got his first drum set, he finally felt something click inside. He practiced until his wrists ached and his legs burned but his mind was  _ quiet  _ and  _ nice  _ and-

Remus loves the drums, and he’s  _ good  _ at it. The twins make a point to not give each other too many compliments--can’t have people thinking they  _ like  _ each other or anything--but he’s heard Roman refer to him as the best drummer this side of the state.

Damn right he is, and he’s  _ proud  _ of it.

“Hey, Remus.” Janus calls as he enters the garage, his lyric book in hand.

“Howdy Jannie.” Remus greets as he cracks every bone in his neck in a satisfying splatter of popping sounds. He then catches a glimpse of the look in Janus’s eyes and a curious thrill runs through him. He’s known Janus for quite some time. He knows that that look can only mean good things. “Ooooh, what’s your plan? Finally going to freeze some water balloons and fuck up Patton’s philosophy teacher’s house?”

“No, Remus. Even if that absolute  _ hag  _ of a woman deserves it, no.” Janus says, and Remus just gives him a look.

“Jan~!” Remus sing-songs, and Janus casts a quick glance around the room. Patton’s in the corner of the garage, strumming idly on his guitar and murmuring under his breath. He’s too lost in concentration to pay attention to them, and the volume’s up loud enough that Remus doubts if Patton can even hear them. Also depends on if he’s adjusted his hearing aids to the right setting or not.

(People wonder how someone like Remus and someone like Patton get along. Remus thinks it’s because while Patton’s a goody-two-shoes, he’s also a far more determined little shit than people give him credit for. Remus will never forget the blessed sight of when Patton looked straight at a teacher and took out his hearing aids and walked away. She had been chastising him for correcting her usage of female pronouns for a student who made it very aware that he was  _ not  _ female.)

(Remus likes people who fuck with authority figures,  _ especially  _ transphobic ones. So, yes, Patton is his friend.)

“We’ll talk later. But, if you  _ must  _ know, Virgil is back from Talyn’s, and dare I say this was their best work.” Janus informs Remus,  _ incredibly helpfully _ .

Virgil, their bassist and Remus’s angsty and lovely boyfriend, had gone to the tattoo parlor earlier to get a new tattoo and had  _ rudely  _ refused to inform Remus of what it was beforehand. Absolute homophobia if you ask Remus.

He perks up immediately, “Where is he?” He asks, eyes dancing around the room like Virgil may be hiding from him in a dark corner. It’s not implausible. Virgil does have a liking for dark corners and odd seats. Like a cat. Or a spider. Or like a small cute emo boy. 

Especially like a small cute emo boy! Emphasis on small, even if Virgil pretends to hate it when he says that. The shortie. 

“He ran back to his car to grab something. He’ll probably-” He hears Janus cut himself off from a distance, because of  _ course  _ the moment he heard where his boyfriend was he was off faster than a hit-and-run driver.. It’s not his fault! Virgil was supposed to be back a literal  _ hour  _ ago. Remus may not have ever gotten a tattoo--he changes his mind far too much, and Virgil had apparently told him that if he could commit to a tattoo idea for even a month then it would be better than his current change-ideas-every-day. Remus doesn’t always like listening to others, but he believes that  _ maybe  _ his boyfriend might have a point on this one--but he doesn’t think it should take this much extra time!

“Virgie~!” He calls, racing through the house. He knew better than to try to go through the garage door. The garage itself opens far too slowly for his taste and he’s been banned from forcing himself underneath the door the moment he can contort himself into it after he was almost run over twice. The door in there is also busted, which was actually not his fault!

He tears open the door, spotting short, pasty white, and beautiful reaching into his beaten down car that he bought when they were in high school. He runs over, letting out a shriek of both excitement and as a warning, because they’ve talked and while Virgil is okay with his “surprise hugs”, he does wish for a verbal warning beforehand. This is their middle ground, because sometimes words are hard and screaming just conveys  _ so  _ much more, in Remus’s opinion.

Virgil looks up at him, smiles, and holds out his arms.

See, while Virgil may be as small, he’s definitely not weak. Remus takes a bounding leap, jumping into his arms and immediately latching onto his boyfriend tightly. He’s careful to watch his back, as that  _ was  _ something Virgil told him. Tattoo on back + Remus hugs = unacceptable amount of pain for boyfriend. See,  _ Roman,  _ Remus is doing just fine at math.

“You’re back!”

“Hey, Rem. Yeah. Sorry it took so long. I made a quick detour.”

“An  _ hour  _ isn’t quick.”

“I know, I know, but it was worth it.” Virgil sets him down, and Remus starts bouncing excitedly.

“What is it, what is it?” He asks, tugging on the purple hoodie Virgil always wears.

“Just a little bit longer, Remus. You know I have to wait some time before taking the bandage off. In the meantime, though, I have a surprise.” Virgil smiles, his dark eyes sparkling of the shadows of his bangs despite the dark eyeshadow smudged underneath. Remus has always loved Virgil’s eyes.

“Huh?” Remus asks, tilting his head confusedly, before Virgil takes a step aside and lets Remus see whatever heinous surprise made his boyfriend an  _ hour  _ late-

Oh.

“Is that…?” He reaches out, more careful than usual.

“Yeah.” Virgil says, as if he did not just drive  _ half an hour  _ away to the city to stop at some dumb aquarium Remus loves just to get him an octopus plushie because he  _ knew  _ his boyfriend was upset that the last one had gotten destroyed and they had gotten it on their first date and-

Virgil had gone back, even though he  _ hates  _ driving in the city and the fact he had a back tattoo that probably hurt like hell and bought some stupid stuffed animal at some overpriced gift-shop and-

“I love you.”

The words slipped out without warning, but Remus would not take them back for anything.

He’s not looking at Virgil.

There’s silence for a moment, before there are hands creeping around his waist and he’s being pulled into a backhug. The plushie is in his arms, and he can’t remember if he grabbed it or if it was placed there.

“Love you too, my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> the tattoo was a spider hanging down from a web that trails down the back of his neck


End file.
